


a study in portly anatomy

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Animal Transformation, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feeding Kink, Furry, Hand Jobs, Incest, Lactation Kink, Masturbation, Multi, Name-Calling, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Weight Gain, rapid pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eric is eighteen the first time he lets his mother be in charge of his diet.





	a study in portly anatomy

Eric is eighteen the first time he lets his mother be in charge of his diet. He'd spent so many years adhering to Katya's strict regimen that he'd never had the chance to enjoy eating beyond the occasional cheat day. With hockey season over and several months, until he starts college, he figures there would be no easier way to make Suzanne happy than to let her get all of her motherly impulses out of the way before she's an empty nester.

 

He expects the gleeful expression Suzanne flashes him when he asks if she would start cooking for him again. He expects her to go a little overboard because that's what he would do too. He even expects the feast she makes the next night and how she not so subtlety guilts him into eating every last morsel on his overstuffed plate (it's not much of a burden considering it's all delicious). 

 

He doesn't expect her to do the same the next morning, and every meal after that for a week. Eric starts to get a little hesitant to go to meals, mildly dreading the full stomach and aching cheeks he gets after finishing his first course. He tells his mama hesitantly, very cautiously, over dessert that maybe he doesn't need so much food. 

 

Suzanne tilts her head for a moment like she's never heard such a lie in her life. But the twist of her mouth melts into a shy smirk. 

 

"Of course, Dicky," she says. "Don't you even worry one bit. I'll fix everything." 

 

And so she did. Servings were smaller after that, but not any less delicious. If anything, they tasted sweeter. Eric thought to worry about the amount of sugar in Suzanne's cooking, but then she started feeding him nothing but healthy foods. Organic snacks and vegetables and weed oats and nuts that he had no interest in learning the names of. And the servings are all so tiny that Eric has to get a third or fourth helping just to get a full feeling. 

 

A month and a half into Suzanne feeding him, Eric has a hard time staying full. He gets hungry at all hours of the day, especially when he's in school away from his mama's cooking. She always knows when he's hungry, and something waiting for him.

 

Sometimes, when he gets home from school and is in the middle of his afternoon snack (a box of organic chips and gluten-free graham crackers) his stomach starts to ache. It'll pudge out a little bit over his jeans as he tries to catch his breath from a long day of bustling around. Suzanne will find him on the couch, heaving for air, and pull him into her lap.

 

"Sweetheart, you really ought to give yourself a break," Suzanne says as she rubs his aching stomach. "All this over exercising has you cramping harder than Judy on her menses." 

 

Eric ignores the comment and focuses on the relief her hands are giving him. They're so gentle yet firm, coaxing the pain out of his belly. 

 

"Just relax, Dicky. For once enjoy the food your mother makes you," she says. 

 

So he does. 

 

Eric tries not to stress out too hard about how much he's eating or when he needs to eat. He just trusts his mother to feed him. It seems to help some days when his pants loosen and his shirts seem bigger. He feels less annoyed when he feels hunger pangs at lunch, soothing his belly with a gentle rub before he continues to eat his leftover chicken dinner. 

 

His rubs aren't nearly as good as his mama's. His hands don't squish him tenderly in all the right places, nor do they caress his tummy delicately. He can't massage himself into a blissed state the way she can. He tries to imagine it's her hands making the pain of overexerting himself go away. He closes his eyes in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and imagines her holding his aching belly, calming it expertly, kissing his--

 

Eric's eyes snap open. No one's staring at him, but he can't help but feel self-conscious. He shovels the rest of his food quickly into his mouth. He runs out of the cafeteria, holding his aching gut while he books it to his car. He locks the doors as he sits in the back seat, yanking his pants button undone. He notices his belly pools a little as it pops out of his jeans. Odd. 

 

Eric takes a deep breath, closing his eyes again. He imagines Suzanne's hands roaming over every inch of his body. He feels her squeezing his belly as she kisses it. He reaches for his dick--stroking it slowly as he reaches for the granola bar in his back pocket. He stuffs it in his mouth, moaning through every bite. He pictures Suzanne feeding him while her belly rubs get faster and faster. She licks his nipple playful.

 

You're such a sweet cow, baby, she says.

 

He screams as he comes. 

  
_X_    
  
Eric remembers his MooMaw telling him as a small child never to eat late at night.

 

“Eating sweets too late is the one sure fire way to ruin all your sweet dreams,” she would say. 

 

Suzanne, apparently, has forgotten this in recent weeks. She takes up most of the evenings watching TV with Eric while rubbing his belly. Not that he's complaining. But she'll leave him warm and a little sensitive, and maybe a bit too excited, and will nudge him to bed with a large mug of hot chocolate and two pieces of pie.

 

He didn't partake much at first. But his appetite has grown to ridiculous proportions so he can't refuse one last morsel before bed. It gives him a moment to himself and his food after all. A moment where he can shiver through every delicious bite and not care about anyone catching him. 

 

Eric has to stifle a moan as some warm peach cobbler slides thickly through his gullet. He nibbles until he feels full, and then keeps nibbling until his food is all gone. He chugs his hot chocolate (now at a more drinkable temperature) until a warm feeling pools in his stomach. He pets his full belly while his other hand subconsciously finds its way into his underwear. 

 

He touches himself until feels the twist in his gut peaks as his thighs clench and his dick spasms. He falls asleep seven nights a week holding his belly like a stuffed animal. 

 

But it's the dreams he has that drive him wild. 

 

They start out essentially the same. Eric lies naked on a huge bed with pillows surrounding him on all sides. A plate of food appears in front of him, so of course, he has to partake. It's meats, candies, fruits, and pies as far as the eye can see.

 

He eats until he's full, and then he eats more. He eats and watches his belly expand further and further. His entire body feels on fire as every inch aches to be touched. Eric moans and whines as he struggles to eat more, his belly growing so large it forces him to lean back, legs fully parted against the weight of himself. 

 

He tries to get up, falling forward onto his enormous belly as it churns. He pants as something inside him rustles. His moaning turns into something louder, more animalistic. His belly hardens and pulses on its own. Something happens to make his dick twitch and stretch.

 

Food appears in a trough in front of his face. He feels hot and achy all over. The only solution seems to be to ignore his problems and eat. Just eat. Keep eating as his dick moves in unnatural ways and his belly starts to move. His belly gets large enough that he can put his feet and hands on the bed. 

 

Eric looks down and momentarily shrieks. His hands are hooves now. His arms seem to be growing thick fur. He tries to look underneath at himself, staring in horror at his fat gut with an utter hanging freely between his hind legs. 

 

Then he hears a voice behind him.

 

“My my, we’ve filled out so perfectly. Haven't we Dicky?” 

 

He moans when he hears her voice. Eric looks up. Suzanne grins tenderly at him. She pats his head, kissing his growing snout. 

 

“My beautiful cow,” she says. “Looks like you've been very naughty, haven't you sweetie?”

 

He whines in agreement. 

 

Suzanne hums, tracing the outside curve of his belly as she walks toward his back. Something moves inside him. It feels like a rock jiggling against his soft underbelly. It feels so good, he almost protests when she massages the spot where he felt the movement, calming whatever it was into stillness. 

 

“Dicky you have been naughty,” she says airly with a tsk. “You've gone and got yourself knocked up.”

 

The rumbling in his belly gets more erratic. Something clenches way down low. It makes his dick, no, his utter, twitch insatiably.

 

“Not to worry, dear,” she says as she traces a finger over one of his teats. “It’s almost time. Why don't we get rid of some of this uncomfortable milk in the meantime?”

 

He doesn't say anything because she gets right to work, squeezing and stroking the life out of his teats. He feels the calf move further and further back. 

 

This is where the dream diverges some nights. Sometimes Suzanne only has time to milk Eric while he moos in ecstasy. Sometimes Eric’s hole starts to gape as the calf squeezes against his protest and Suzanne rubs his belly perfectly. Sometimes he gets through the whole birth as a cow. Sometimes he turns back into a human, huffing, and moaning as Suzanne finger fucks a baby out of his belly as milk sprays from his fat breasts. Sometimes, Suzanne has enough time to fuck a whole new baby into him. 

 

Whatever which way it goes, Eric always wakes up at six in the morning with come soaked underwear and a hand on his belly. 

 

He doesn't think about it much, outside of his bedroom. Being a fat dairy cow is preposterous. Getting milked and fucked as he eats himself into a fat pliant animal is doubly so. It would worry any rational person to think that they'd be so much happier six pants sizes bigger with a rounded belly hanging off them. 

 

These concerns don't stop him from taking his mama’s late night snack again the next night or the night after that. 

 

_X_ 

 

Even during the offseason, Coach isn’t around much in the evenings. But sometimes he is, and he likes to hover around his wife. Eric tries to suppress how jealous it makes him, seeing Suzanne grin after Richard like he’s the most special thing in the world. He’s so annoyed by how adorable and soft they look talking over dinner that he can’t even enjoy his own food. 

 

Eric just shovels more and more food into his mouth as it’s handed to him. He doesn’t pay attention to where it’s coming from or who’s putting it on his plate. He eats until it stops and then he has nothing. Nothing at all. 

 

He excuses himself and goes upstairs. He gets to the third step before she’s calling his name. He hates when people call him Dicky, but from her...it’s not so bad. 

 

“Baby,” Suzanne says, grabbing his hand. “Don’t you want dessert? We were gonna watch something together.” 

 

Her face is a little crestfallen as she cups his jaw gently. Eric sighs. Jealous or not, he can’t say no when she’s offering food and attention. He’ll just have to share her for a night...or maybe an hour before Richard gets fed up. 

 

Surprisingly, Richard doesn’t sit on the far side of the living room where his special recliner gathers dust outside of the football season. Suzanne ushers Eric to the couch next to Richard. 

 

“I’ll go grab some ice cream,” she says. 

 

Eric tries not to look too disappointed as she leaves. Richard chuckles next to him. Eric chooses to ignore him as best he can. 

 

Suzanne comes back with three bowls of ice cream. Eric knows he must look smug as she hands him the one with the most ice cream. She gives him three extra kisses than she does Richard. Almost like she knows how selfish and greedy he’s feeling. 

 

She sits on the other side of Eric and wraps her arm around his shoulders. He sags against her, savoring the taste of rocky road as she kisses the back of his ear. It feels nice, loving. He focuses on eating and watching TV. If his mouth is full, they won’t be able to see him smiling. 

 

His stomach starts to ache. He protests quietly. Suzanne shushes him. 

 

“We’re gonna let daddy make it feel better alright?” she whispers. 

 

Eric looks at her warily. But he nods anyway. He trusts her. 

 

Richard’s hands feel...different. Not as slim and sharp as Suzanne’s but not bad. They’re firm yet flexible. He rubs Eric’s bloated torso with an expert finesse that only comes from experience. He swirls his fingers around where food is digesting and scratches Eric’s itches in just the right places. 

He circles Eric’s navel carefully, causing Eric to gasp. Richard pulls up his shirt, kissing Eric’s belly. Eric hides his face in the crook of Suzanne’s neck. She chuckles softly as her hand joins Richard’s. 

 

“There you go, baby,” she murmurs. “We’ve got you.” 

 

They touch his belly until he’s hard and panting. Suzanne pops a few chocolates in his mouth. He thinks about getting bigger as they pet and feed him all day every day. The entire room smells like freshly baked cookies and it makes Eric so hungry he keens as someone’s finger trace the skin above his waistband. 

 

A timer dings in the distance.   

 

“Oh, they’re ready,” Suzanne says. “Richard help me take the snickerdoodles out of the oven.” 

 

Richard nods dutifully. They both kiss Eric before shuffling toward the kitchen. 

 

Eric sighs in relief as soon as their out of sight. It takes five minutes to put cookies on the cooling tray. Five minutes to fix his problem. 

 

Quietly, he unzips his pants and shoves his hand as far down as it will go. He rubs his dick furiously as his other hand pinches the excess of his belly. He thinks about Suzanne kissing every inch of fat on him as he eats himself into a coma. He thinks about her lying on top of his naked, pudgy body—the friction of her body causing him to come untouched. 

 

Eric bites his lip, hearing her call him things in his head. He strokes himself faster. 

 

Look at my portly little dairy cow, she says. Can’t go five minutes without being fed and fucked.   

 

His pants get a little louder. Like he’s out of breath and out of shape and so fucking fat. 

 

The scene in his mind changes. Suzanne’s sitting on his ginormous belly, rutting against his belly for friction. Behind her, Richard fucks him raw, filling him with so much come it makes his belly grow two sizes bigger. He’d just lie there, growing plumper and fuller and filled with his parents—  

 

Eric shuts his eyes as he finishes. He gives his belly one last pat before buttoning his pants. He tries to catch his breath. He wipes the sweat off his forehead as he tries to get a grip. He wonders if they’ll come back into the room and smell what he’s been up to. He wonders if that will be the last straw for her if she’ll push him away for being so gross. 

 

Richard and Suzanne come back two minutes later with a few cookies that have cooled down well enough. They sit on either side of him again, kissing him on the cheeks like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

 

“Love you, sweetpea,” Richard rumbles in his ear. 

 

Eric has to hold back a blush. They spend the rest of the night cuddled around him. He falls asleep that night listening to infomercials as Suzanne tells him how beautiful he is and Richard hums in agreement. 

 

Maybe his daddy’s not so bad after all. 

 

_X_

 

Lunches get significantly harder to eat at school. Just thinking about how much food Suzanne packs for him, how much he can stuff down his gullet while he thinks of her touching every inch of him, gets exponentially harder to do the longer he has these cow dreams. 

 

He starts eating his lunches at home. Eric sits at the breakfast nook alone, not caring how loud he gets as he savors every last bite. But he's usually so hard after he eats that he starts getting himself off in the afternoons. He’ll take a post lunch dessert to his room and eat that naked as he palms his dick slowly. 

 

It isn't a race. Not like eating meals where the goal is to be as full as possible as soon as possible. No, after lunch dessert is meant to be savored as he works himself into orgasm. He lets his mind wander as his mouth is full and his hands wander all over. Sometimes he recreates his dreams and eats off the plate with his face, belly and dick rutting into his mattress as he reverberates out of his body. 

 

He does not think about his mother fucking him from behind. And he most certainly does not imagine his father watching before sticking his dick in Eric’s mouth. Nor does he murmur to himself that he’s a fat pig as he slaps his belly and comes almost violently.

 

That would be ridiculous.

 

_X_ 

 

Eric likes taking hot showers at night. They soothe him after a long day of trudging around school. It's a good time of day because a shower right after dinner can help start to calm him before bed. 

 

Admittedly he likes seeing himself naked in the shower. Especially naked after a large meal when his food baby is still nestled firmly in his gut. He likes how drops of water have to roll around the soft curve of his belly. He loves the sound a wet smack as he pats it occasionally.

 

He has taking after dinner showers down to an art at this point. He rushed through scrubbing his body and washing his hair so he can plug up the tub. Then he sits down gently and relaxes. He watches his full belly as it rounds up behind his chest. Lately it's been obscuring the view of his legs and dick more and more. It's also taking longer for his food babies to settle and disappear on him. 

 

Then again, he can't remember the last time he didn't have a soft gut. Eric sits up a little, letting his belly fall a bit over his legs and dick.

 

There's a knock at the door. 

 

“Come in,” he says, maybe too quickly. 

 

The door opens and closes almost silently. Suzanne pulls back the curtains of the shower. 

 

“Baby don't waste water like this,” she says with a tsk. 

 

He has to stop himself from moaning out of sheer habit. 

 

“I'm sorry—” 

 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” she interrupts him. 

 

Suzanne pushes the handle down on tub spout, letting the water run from down there. 

 

“There, now why don't I get you some tea and cookies and we’ll make a real bath out of this?”

 

Eric feels himself blush. He'd never thought to eat while in the bathroom. It was the only place where eating felt off limits. Yet here Suzanne was, showing him there was a way. 

 

He nods before he can lose his nerve. She comes back a few minutes later and places the tray she's carrying carefully in front of him. He didn't even know they made trays for tubs. 

 

Suzanne sits down cross legged next to the tub.

 

“Mind if I keep you company?” She asks.

 

He thinks his face must be redder than a fire engine. But he nods, hiding his face being his mug of tea drenched in coffee creamer and honey. 

 

Suzanne grins at him for a moment before petting his head. Eric leans into the touch without thinking about it. She hums as her fingers trace his jawline. 

 

“Baby,” she says quietly. “I want to try something alright? And you tell me if it's not okay or when to stop. Got it?”

 

“Yes ma'am,” he says, feeling his dick twitch. 

 

Suzanne hums some more, her hand slips down to Eric’s neck and onto his shoulders. She brushes past one of his nipples. He swears he feels her flick it. 

 

Her hand settles on his naked belly, rubbing it tenderly as she does. Eric closes his eyes, trying to will his hard on away. 

 

“No baby, just relax,” Suzanne says calmly. “Don’t you fret. Let Mama handle everything.”

 

He pants as he nods. He pries one eye open to watch her pour more water onto him. She starts to use both hands to squeeze and kneed his fat gut. One of her hands goes on the underside of his belly. He can't see where it went, but he can feel it as it strokes him carefully.

 

This must be a dream, he decides. There's no way—  

 

Suzanne presses deeper into his fat. Eric moans, realizing that he doesn't have to moderate himself here. Suzanne giggles.

 

“You are so big and beautiful, baby,” Suzanne says. “I just want to plump you up and keep you that way.”

 

Eric is on the edge, her strokes slow down and he whines.

 

“Yes, please, please,” he pants.

 

“What baby? What do you need?”

 

“Tell me how fat I am.” His voice is high and loud. 

 

“You're so big, baby,” she practically purrs. “Do you know how many times I've had to let out the seem in your pants?”

 

“How many?”

 

She rubs his belly harder, faster. “Six. I keep trying to hide how big you're getting from you, and you keep out eating yourself. You're so damn hungry all the time I have to go to the grocery store three times a week just for you.” 

 

“Yes, so hungry,” Eric moans.

 

Suzanne shoves a cookie in his mouth. He eats it so quickly. It tastes so real. Maybe this isn't a dream. Maybe it's better.

 

“Yes but not enough. I want you to be so big baby. Don't you want to be big and fat for me?”

 

She strokes his dick as she pushes down harshly on his stomach. He screams as he comes. Suzanne smirks in satisfaction, kissing his cheek before draining the tub.

 

“You're so good, baby,” she says before leaving. 

 

Eric flops back against the ceramic tub. Yes, his mother was going to be the death of him for sure. 

 

_X_

 

Eric quickly realizes that she wasn’t kidding about adjusting his clothing. She tells him the next morning to let her know when his clothes get too tight again. It takes them two weeks to get a little snug and a weekend of binge eating for them to get tight. 

 

He doesn’t tell her they’re too tight though. He loves the way they press into his belly, scratching and rubbing against his gut, tight as a drum, as he walks to classes wearing shirts that are two sizes too large (for now). 

 

Eric loves wearing some of his older shirts around the house. He loves the way Richard finds a patch of exposed belly as caresses softly as he kisses Eric’s nose. Richard will come home after dinner with take out now. He’s good at reading Eric’s mind and anticipating what would make the perfect second dinner. He kisses Eric’s jaw whenever Eric starts to lose momentum. He calls Eric beautiful and means it. 

 

“You’re glowing, sweetpea,” he’ll say earnestly. 

 

He loves the way Suzanne looks at him like a meal, like slow, plump prey ripe for the taking. How she looks at his stretch marks like a medal of honor. She holds him from behind most mornings as he makes enough breakfast for six people. Suzanne rolls her hips against his. She pokes and prods at his empty belly. 

 

“You’re so hungry, baby. Now how will we ever fix that?” She’ll chirp. 

 

They sit on either side of him during TV time as he eats them out of house and home. Every night he whimpers after about twenty minutes of dessert. They always take care of him. He eats faster whenever their rubs get a little too good. When they make him feel a little too soft and overstimulated. When he’s five seconds from coming in front of them. 

 

He stops himself from moaning for a few weeks. Eventually, they get too good at their job. He whimpers in frustration as Richard’s lips ghost his neck. Eric starts thrusting his hips against Suzanne’s side. 

 

“That’s it, baby,” she says, gasping through chuckles. “Just do what feels right.” 

He keeps rutting against her, grabbing Richard’s hand and thrusting it toward his pants. He pushes his weight harder and harder against her, grabbing her hands and pushing them against his belly. 

 

“Touch me,” he pants. 

 

They both plunged their mouths into his round belly. They lick and nip him like the first bites of a Thanksgiving feast. It stings in the best way possible. Suzanne plays with his soft chest as Richard forces his pants open. 

 

“Look at our cow, Richard,” Suzanne says. “He’s so ripe and ready for milking.”

 

Richard hums. “Well then, we better get to it while he’s still fresh.” 

 

They suck his dick dry twice that night. When it’s over, he’s still hungry. He moans as his belly aches. There's a rustling in his stomach that feels just right. Suzanne chuckles, kissing his lips softly. She’s never done that before, he realizes. 

 

“You think you have room for a little more food?” Suzanne asks. 

 

Eric hums. In hindsight, he thinks it comes out as a moo. 

  
  


_X_ 

 

After finals, Eric stops going back to school after lunch. There’s only a week left but it’s too hard when he’s so full and sleepy after dessert. He gets greedy, and maybe a bit careless. He starts taking his naps in their bedroom. He surrounds himself on all sides with their heavily scented pillows. He props his hips underneath one of Richard’s back pillows. 

 

Eric starts sneaking things from Suzanne’s secret chocolate stash. Funnily enough, he can’t put a single dent in that stash no matter how many he eats in one afternoon. He knows that’s not a coincidence, but it’s more thrilling when he feels like he might get confronted. 

 

He eats dessert in the middle of their bed, imagining them catching him. He pictures them finding him there, naked and fat just for them. Maybe they’d start bringing him meals there. Maybe they’d wake him up morning, noon, and night with hands and tongues where they shouldn’t be. 

 

He comes every afternoon with his mouth stuffed with food, begging for his mama and daddy to fuck their fat cow senseless. 

 

He pants for a few minutes afterward, watching in rapture as his belly rises. Eric likes touching himself now. Not just in a sexual way, but in every way. It was hard to feel connected to his body when it was only meant for physicality. When he had to loan it out to other people to enforce their body politics he felt detached from it. Now, it’s his, soft and squishy and everything. 

 

Suzanne and Richard tell him he’s beautiful. They don’t stop him from eating. They just keep the food coming. He sighs to himself, before heaving his fat self off the bed. He’s fat. He realized that the other day when he broke out his tank tops from last summer and they looked more like midriffs. 

 

But that’s okay. He knows he’s plenty attractive and well-loved, extra pounds and all. 

 

He wears a tank top to dinner, sitting far enough away from the table so they can watch his stomach stretch and grumble as he puts it to work. He loves the way they take off his pants while watching TV. How Suzanne has to struggle against the pressure of his after-dinner bloat as Richard pulls up Eric’s shirt, rolling his nipples with the hand that isn’t already occupied with his belly. 

 

They let him lie naked in their laps while they hand feed him. Suzanne kisses his belly button before moving further down. 

 

“Let’s see how sweet you taste now,” she’ll say with a smirk before swallowing him whole. 

 

Eric nods, letting Richard feed him hand pies. He feels Suzanne grab onto his love handles for anchoring. She thrusts roughly against him. She runs her tongue over every crevice of his dick. Her head bumps against his belly, causing it to slosh and wiggle. 

 

“Fuck,” he gasps, arching his hips. 

 

She gets him nice and hard before letting him go. She sits up, tracing a finger around his belly. Something moves in his stomach, causing him to shiver.

 

“You know we love you, don’t you baby?” Suzanne asks innocently. 

 

Eric swallows, nodding. 

 

“We’d do anything for you, sweetpea,” Richard murmurs above him. 

 

“That's right, baby,” she says. “We want you to be happy and love your life.”

 

“I do,” Eric says earnestly.

 

Richard kisses his mouth firmly. “But is it enough?”

 

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

 

Suzanne sighs. “Oh baby, we mean we haven't done enough for you. To make you happy, to keep you warm, protected, and carefree. We talk about you being our sweet cow, but you're not really a cow...yet.”

 

Eric swallows. “But I can't be. You know that. It's not possi—”

 

“Shhh, calm down, sweetpea,” Richard says, rubbing his belly. “It is. Don't worry, we can make it happen. As long as that’s...what you really want, Dicky?”

 

He hesitates. They can't really mean—  

 

“Baby, we’ve been pumping you full of hormones for months,” Suzanne says. “Haven't you wondered why your hips are so wide and your nipples are so sensitive? Don't you think there's a reason you need to be touched morning noon and night? We’ve been breeding you into a dairy cow. Calf and all.”

 

His closes his eyes. He honestly hadn't thought of it. But now that he has...it all makes sense. The weight gain, the libido, the weird dreams, his constant need for attention and wariness toward anyone who isn't Richard or Suzanne. They’ve been turning him into a cow, just the way he wanted. 

 

“Okay,” Eric says. “Make me your cow.”

 

Suzanne hums cheerfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her pull out a syringe from her pocket.

 

“That's my perfect baby. Now hold still,” she says. “We just need to activate the process. It’ll help the milk come out and the calf grow. Richard, give him some more food.”

 

Richard obliges, stuffing more food down Eric's throat as he pushes Eric up into a sitting position. Eric watches Suzanne stick the needle in his lower abdomen, pushing some blue-violet liquid into him. Even the part of him that was skeptical can't ignore how real this all looks. 

 

And then his stomach starts to churn. 

 

“Oh,” Eric moans as he clutches his belly. 

 

His nipples tingle as his chest inflates. His belly fat hardens and expands. Eric feels hot and achy all over. Suzanne starts to rub his dick. 

 

“That's it, baby, lean back against daddy and enjoy the show,” she says.

 

He does so, letting Richard play with his sensitive chest as it turns into breasts. The churning in his stomach gets more rapid, violent. He squeezes the fat he can reach as his belly grows disproportionately larger. 

 

Something's happening to his dick, he realizes. There's movement near his underbelly that he can't see. He knows what's happening, he realizes. He's watched himself go through this too many times to count. Always in his dreams, but, never did it feel as good as this. 

 

He feels his udder grow in. His teats swell with milk. It makes sense. It all makes sense. All these months of eating and storing fat were his body's way of getting ready for milk production. 

 

He really is their fat cow.

 

Eric pants as he feels a pang in his stomach. It isn't rolling, yet. It's just cramping slightly. He needs food. He needs so much food. He can't stand to see how small his belly is right now. There's not enough room in there for a calf. He needs to feed his calf.

 

“I'm so hungry,” he moans.

 

Suzanne nods as she squeezes one of his teats. “Why don't we get you comfortable and then we’ll feed you till your full?”

 

Eric nods because has to agree. Something in his belly pops, shooting his swollen stomach a few inches forward. His skin feels itchy there. Richard scratches his belly just right.

 

His moans of pleasure turn into moos. 

 

They manage to get him up and walking, supporting his belly weight as they climb the states. Eric gets winded a few times, but one squeeze of his breasts or udder gets him back to walking. 

 

The itching gets worse. By the time they get to the master bedroom, the itchiness has spread all over his belly and to his arms and ass. He looks down, fur is growing everywhere.

 

“Fuck,” Eric grumbles.

 

“Don't worry, sweetpea,” Richard says as he helps him onto the bed, laying sideways. “You still look radiant.”

 

Eric wants to make a scathing remark, but Richard kisses him until he forgets what he wanted to say.

 

Richard scratches his belly just right. Eric moos when Richard starts to play with his udder. His teats begging to be touched as his hole aches to be fucked. He only vague realizes that his hands are now hooves. It's alright though, he's used to this part.

 

Suzanne comes back with enough pastries to feed a small army. She tells Eric to finish all of them. He does. He chews and swallows voraciously. He's so hungry and horny. He feels the calf growing quicker.

 

“That's it, baby,” she says, caressing the spot where the calf won't stop kicking. “Take it nice and easy. Just focus on growing nice and big for us. Eat till you can't no more.” 

 

Eric eats through six boxes of cookies and ten pies. Then he eats through five cheesecakes. Suzanne doesn't run out of food for him but that doesn't make him feel better. He's just so hungry. He needs more for his calf. He needs more to make milk. He whimpers after the fourth devil's food cake, bored and unsatisfied. 

 

“What’s wrong baby?” Suzanne asks.

 

“I need…” his voice drifts off.

 

His snout starts to form as the calf rustles more violently inside him. 

 

“What do you need, sweetpea?” Richard says ask he kisses Eric’s snout.

 

“I need to be full,” he wines. “I need more fat. I'm so skinny like this.” 

 

Suzanne tsks. “Maybe you're just thirsty, baby. Here.”

 

She makes him chug a pitcher of water. Surprisingly, it helps. He moos for more, not having the patience to talk as his belly cramps. They keep pouring water into him until his belly feels nice and sloshy. The calf’s movements start slow, but they move further down. 

 

Eric feels something pop against his hole. Something went comes out of him as his udder starts to ache. His hole gapes a bit as the calf rubs against his prostate. 

 

“Calf's coming,” he says as he gasps for air. 

 

Suzanne and Richard rub his belly tenderly. Their hands find his breasts and teats, uncomfortably untouched and aching to be milked. 

 

“Not to worry, dear,” she says as she traces a finger over one of his teats. “It’s almost time. Why don't we get rid of some of this uncomfortable milk in the meantime?” 

 

Eric nods, mooing desperately. 

 

They milk every last drop out of him as the calf moves further into his birth canal. They stop a few times to kiss his belly and snout, to tell him how great he's doing.

 

“You're such a beautiful cow, Dicky,” Suzanne says. “This is quality milk, I think we’re gonna make a fortune off you, baby. My big fat, cow.”

 

Eric writhes in pleasure.

 

“You're so good at this sweetpea,” Richard adds. “We ought to keep you like this all the time, don't you think? A nice pregnant dairy cow, keeping you fat and well fed.”

 

“How’d you do it?” Eric asks as the calf starts to push their way through his hole. “How'd you get me knocked up in the first place?”

 

Suzanne kisses his belly. “That was me, dear. You were having so much fun in those dreams of yours, begging me to fuck you. I had to deliver.” 

 

Eric grins through a contraction, the calf hitting his prostate again. 

 

“Next time I better be awake,” he says serenely. 

 

She leans over to kiss the top of his snout. “Of course baby, now c’mon. I think it's time you push.” 

 

Eric hears himself shout as he does. The calf is large and they have to resituate him so he can stand while he gives birth. Richard rubs his belly and udder while Suzanne helps pry his ass apart. He interrupts his pushing a few times to ask for more water.

 

Once the calf’s head is out, Eric pauses for a minute to catch his breath. His breasts feel so heavy.

 

“Someone milk me up here,” he says. 

 

Suzanne takes over, squeezing what she can out of him.

 

“You still hungry, baby?”

 

He glares. “What do you think?”

 

Suzanne grins. “Why don't I get out the special chocolate then?”

 

He doesn't question what makes it special nor why it's in a different hiding spot than her normal chocolate. He just takes what's shoved toward his mouth. Eric moos, and maybe moans, at how good it tastes. His belly bubbles with excitement as he tucks away at the chocolate.

 

“You like it?” Suzanne asks. “It has just a little bit of hormones and milk from the last cow we bred.”

 

Eric stops eating to ask the obvious question. “Who?” 

 

Suzanne chuckles. “Me, baby.”

 

Eric eats faster after hearing that. He wants every single part of her, her calf and milk included. As he's finishing the box he feels his belly drop. He gets the unmistakable urge to push. 

 

“That's it, sweetpea,” Richard says, practically lifting the bottom of Eric's stomach off the bed. “Just a little bit longer.”

 

He falters a little when he feels the calves shoulders. Suzanne kisses him firmly. 

 

“C’mon, baby, be a good little dairy cow and give birth so we can pump you full of another one. We’ll keep you nice and loved and fat until we get ourselves a human baby. You can stay as plump and naked as you want for as long as you want. We’ll come home every day just to feed and fuck a new calf into you. How does that sound?”

 

It sounds perfect, he thinks.

 

“Tell me how fat I am,” he says. 

 

“Oh you're so fat baby,” she insists. “This bed can barely hold you.”

 

He nods, pushing harder. 

 

“You're so fat we’re running out of clothing sizes to put you in. You're so fat and lazy we keep finding you asleep and naked on our bed.”

 

“You know how hard that is, sweetpea?” Richard chimes in. “Seeing your big round belly full of our food and our calf and not being able to fuck you properly like the breeding cow you are?” 

 

“We just want you to stay right at home where you belong,” Suzanne says. “Fat and full of everything we can stuff in you. Doesn't that sound nice, cow? Don’t you wanna eat until your belly gives out? Until your stretch marks have stretch marks and your belly has its own zip code. You’re nearly halfway there already.” 

 

Eric squirms huffing as he pushes weakly.

 

“I’m so out of shape,” he says. “I’m so big and flabby and tired. I’m so fucking fat. Oh, I’m just a fat cow.”

 

“You are, baby,” she says. “You’re my big fat cow. You always have been and always will be my pudgy, baby making plaything.” 

 

The calf kicks one last time. Eric pushes hard as it comes out, enveloping him in a tight orgasm as the calf stretches him wide and Richard massages his udder.

 

He pants and writhes for another few minutes as the hormones sends sparks through him.  Someone pets his head gently. 

 

“That’s right, baby,” she says sweetly. “You get some rest. We’ll milk you again in a few hours.” 

 

Eric drifts off a happy, satiated cow. 


End file.
